Halo: The Guardians
by Kryptikk Soulslayer
Summary: Earth is under attack and the Master Chief isn't the only Spartan trying to save it. Four members of the SpartanIII project have been redeployed on a secret mission to finish the Covenant once and for all. Please R
1. The War at Home

Disclaimer: I don't own Halo, Bungie does

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CHAPTER 1

The War at Home

**0811 Hours, November 13, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Sol System, Planet Earth**

**The streets of Berlin, Germany**

The streets were alive with gunfire. The constant popping of UNSC firearms mixed with the droning noise of Covenant plasma fire. Rounds of super-heated plasma rained down from above as Phantoms descended from the heavens, forcing any Marines on the ground to run for cover while the dropships delivered their precise cargo. Gorilla-like Brutes and shield-wielding Jackals were carried down the ships' gravity beams and instantly joined the fray. The insect-like Drones flew around the dropships and swooped over the ranks of Earth's defenders, bathing them in plasma and crystalline shards.

SPARTAN-G221, Brock, hefted his BR55 Battle Rifle and magnified its scope to 2x magnification. A few quick taps on the trigger and a pair of three round bursts of armor-piercing rounds cut into the exo-skeletal armor of a Drone. The ugly little bugger gave a defiant buzz before plummeting to the ground next to the SPARTAN-III. He gave it another quick shot to the head and grabbed its Plasma Pistol, tossing it to a nearby Marine.

Brock's SPI armor automatically blended back into the road under his feet and the buildings surrounding him. Though he was only fifteen years old, he had the body of an Olympic athlete. He carried the weight of his Battle Rifle and Semi-Powered Infiltration armor as if they were nothing.

Up ahead, a fragmentation grenade went off in the middle of a trio of Brutes. Smoke and debris flew into the air after the resounding explosion, followed by a gut-wrenching roar. The chalky dust that had gathered ahead parted, a single remaining Brute charging toward the Marines next to Brock. The bulky alien had murder in its eyes and ran like it had something to prove.

Brock side armed a Plasma Grenade and chucked it at the approaching beast. A trail of superheated plasma followed in the grenade's wake as it sailed through the air and stuck to the Brute's thick skin. Unaffected, the Brute continued its charge, until it exploded in a plume of blue fire, blood and hair. Entrails splattered up against Brock's reflective visor, he sighed and wiped them off.

Taking a moment to slide home a new clip for his Battle Rifle, Brock remembered exactly how he'd gotten here in the first place.

The majority of the Gamma Company of the newly trained SPARTAN-IIIs had been commissioned for a secret operation, codenamed: MOCKINGBIRD. The mission was high risk, as was accustomed for any mission in which Spartan-IIIs would be sent on. It involved the repelling the massive Covenant ground force on the planet Tantulas in the system named after it, not very far away from the wreckage of planet Reach. But just before they were to arrive, there was a call over the FLEETCOM system ordering all units to help in the defense of Earth. The Covenant were attacking.

With a relatively short jump through Slipspace, the Gamma Company arrived on the battlefield of Earth aboard the UNSC Carrier _Atlantis_ and were immediately called to defend the capital of Germany by Lord Hood.

Brock shrugged the memory of the journey out of his mind and focused back on the battle before him. Behind him, a resonating _crack _filled the air as a Scorpion fired its main cannon. Up ahead, a burst of flame and asphalt sent a phalanx of Jackals flying. They landed with sickening crunches a few meters away. All nearby Covenant forces were momentarily dazed from the repercussions of the explosion. Brock seized the moment to charge forward and toss a fragmentation grenade, his last, at a Brute-manned Shade. The Covenant turret was blown to pieces by the ensuing inferno, the Brute atop it lost an enormous chunk of its left side.

The beast angrily clawed at the ground with its remaining arm, trying to reach its attacker. A few sustained bursts from Brock's Battle Rifle silenced the alien forever.

Suddenly, shots from above peppered the ground all around Brock's feet. The Spartan instinctively aimed up and fired. A Drone fell from the sky, but it was what had fired at him. The Phantom's shadow eclipsed the sun, its trio of Shade turrets firing concentrated globs of red hot plasma. Brock rolled to the side and behind the wreckage of a Warthog to avoid the fire.

A familiar crack filled the air and two of the dropship's turrets fell uselessly to the ground. The Phantom halted dropping its troops and turned to face the Scorpion. The Main Battle Tank fired a second 110mm round and blew a hole into the ship's hull, where the remaining turret had once been. The Phantom's pilot wisely retreated back into the sky.

"Scimitar-One, come in," a voice crackled over a private COM link inside Brock's helmet, "we need backup!" Brock recognized that as the voice of one of his fellow Spartans, G-007, Rachelle.

"This is Scimitar-One, I'm on my way" Brock said coolly. He peeked over the skeleton of the light recon vehicle he hid behind, it was all clear. The Spartan rolled into a nearby alley, sprang to his feet and cut between a pair of buildings. Brock slid behind a fallen Pelican's wreckage. He saw the reflective outline of his Scimitar Team, consisting of Rachelle, Forrest and Myrin.

Rachelle was Gamma Company's best hand-to-hand fighter, capable of defeating any of her male counterparts in unarmed combat. Forrest was the explosives expert, he knew the wiring and detonation time of everything from a LOTUS mine to a HAVOK tactical nuke. Myrin was the sniper, boasting the most kills in practice combat of all the Gamma Company. Together, Team Scimitar had earned the title of most effective team while training under Lieutenant Ambrose.

"How're things looking on the other side of this heap Scimitar-Three?" Brock asked.

"We've got a Wraith Tank two hundred meters to our three and a squad of Ghosts at our twelve, approaching fast" Myrin reported.

"How are we on boobytraps?" Brock asked.

"Sir, I've got two LOTUS mines planted three meters ahead of us, they're rigged to explode at the first sign of movement" Forrest explained.

"Good, as soon as those mines go off we attack, understood?" Brock asked. Three green acknowledgment lights winked on his heads-up display. From around the corner, Myrin counted down from three with his fingers. As his last finger curled into his palm, the LOTUS mines exploded on either side of the first Ghost, catching it a wall of fire and shrapnel.

Team Scimitar charged from behind their cover and opened fire with their BR55s and MA5K assault rifles. The second Ghost emerged from the dust of the explosion, its front half torn asunder and was buried under a hail of fire. A satisfying explosion of blue and white flames signified its end, and that of its driver.

The three Ghosts that followed however were undamaged and opened fire with their twin Plasma Cannons. Streams of fire whizzed by the Spartans' heads, missing them by only inches. Team Scimitar split and ducked for cover as an approaching Ghost tried to boost over them.

Forrest attached a Plasma Grenade to the fast attack vehicle as it passed and smiled under his visor as the Ghost exploded into multiple pieces.

The two remaining Ghosts came side to side and tried to protect each other's weak points. The Wraith behind them fired as the Spartans lunged for cover. A comet of plasma ascended to the sky, then came screaming toward the ground. The comet slammed into the ground where the Spartans had just been standing.

Brock furrowed his brow and charged for the nearest Ghost. Brock had been deemed the most courageous of the Spartan-IIIs and he intended to prove it. Twin lines of plasma moved to envelop him, but the Spartan rolled under them and lunged for the Brute at the controls. A powerful kick knocked the beast from the driver's seat.

The other Ghost's driver roared angrily and turned its vehicle toward him as the Wraith fired from behind. Brock activated the Ghost's boosting mechanism and slammed into the enemy Ghost, pushing up against a nearby crate of ammunition. Brock's Ghost got under the Brute's and flipped it over just as the Wraith's shot exploded inches behind him.

The Spartan's Ghost flipped end from end through the air, coming to rest right side up just before it would've slammed into a building. Brock smiled and activated the boosting mechanism again, the Ghost's side fins lighting up with blue exhaust.

The surviving Brute Brock had stolen the fast attack vehicle from activated a Plasma Grenade and prepared to throw it at its old Ghost. Rachelle whistled at it from behind a nearby crate and pushed the box of ammo over. The Brute stared in horror as the crate fell upon it and the grenade detonated in its hand.

Brock closed the distance between him and the Wraith within seconds, cutting off the Ghost's thrusters and firing its main weapons. Lines of plasma fire washed over the thick armor of the Covenant tank. The Wraith's anti-personnel plasma cannons returned fire, but Brock easily avoided them, moving to the side of the hovering tank. The Wraith tried to match the Ghost in turning speed, but just couldn't keep up.

In a last, valiant effort to destroy the Spartan, the Wraith boosted at him, clearly missing. Continued plasma fire burned through the side of the Wraith and caught the engine on fire. The tank's controls exploded on the inside and its anti-gravity system sputtered out. It fell to the ground as a useless corpse of its former self.

"Brock, we've got two more Wraiths on their way, there coming from you nine" Myrin said over the COM.

"How many grenades to do we have left?" Brock asked as he turned to face the approaching threats.

"Two between us, and they're both frag grenades" Rachelle reported.

Brock cringed. Fragmentation grenades and a single Ghost would never be enough to take on two battle ready Wraiths.

"Sir, we've got you covered!" a Marine yelled over the COM. The Scorpion tank from before rolled up next to Brock's Ghost, three Marines armed with Jackhammers beside it. Maybe there was a chance after all.

Up ahead, twin explosions from inside a building paved the way for the Wraiths, which quickly boosted into view. They were met by a blast from the Scorpion's 110mm projectile cannon and three SPNKr rockets. The first Wraith exploded before it could even get a shot off.

The second Covenant tank however, did. A fireball of plasma shot through the air and came down on the battered Scorpion. The Marines around it rolled away from the ensuing explosion.

The rest of Team Scimitar seized the Rocket Launchers from the Marines and hefted them onto their shoulders. Trails of exhaust marked where the rockets had once been as the projectiles slammed into the Wraith from three different angles. The tank went rigid and slid to a halt.

"Good job team" Brock congratulated.

From above them, a Pelican dropship descended down carefully. "Need a lift Spartans?" the pilot asked over the COM.

"Roger that Firefox, we're on our way" Brock answered, jumping out of his Ghost and running toward the ship. Team Scimitar handed the Rocket Launchers back to the Marines and joined him, climbing into the back of the ship before the Pelican boosted back into the sky.

Brock approached the cockpit of the Pelican, knocked and entered. "What orders from Lord Hood?" he asked the pilot.

"He has ordered me to get you Spartans to an ONI base off the shoreline of Maine" the pilot answered.

"What for?" Brock asked.

"That's classified, I was only instructed to pick you up and drop you off" the pilot answered. Brock nodded in acknowledgment. He knew as well as any other soldier the high amount of secrecy employed by the Office of Naval Intelligence. The Spartan sat back in his seat and watched as the clouds and upper atmosphere ships passed by. He hoped ONI had a more complex mission for his team then just simple defense orders, he ached to blow up a Covenant flagship or detonate a nuke on one of the Covenant controlled planets in the nearby systems.

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A/N: I know the Spartan-III project was designed to be kept secret, but I figure the defense of Earth was important enough to reveal them, right? Anyway, this first chapter is more of a prologue, as the main story plots have yet to be revealed. PLEASE REVIEW, this is my first fanfic! 


	2. A New Mission

CHAPTER 2

A New Mission

**0901 Hours, November 13th, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Sol System, Planet Earth**

**Above Europe inside the Pelican Firefox**

The console of the Pelican lit up with warning lights and a few alarms began blaring. Instinctively, Brock looked as far back on either side of the dropship. "What's going on?" he asked. The pilot pressed a few buttons and a camera view switched on. A pair of sleek, Covenant fighters took positions just behind their ship.

"Seraphs at our five and our seven, activating anti-vehicle defenses!" the pilot announced. "Prepare for a bumpy ride!"

Brock watched through the stern cameras as the Pelican's rear-facing 70mm cannon sprang to life. Streaks of yellow peppered an enemy Seraph as it charged up its Plasma Cannons to counter. The Pelican's shots were easily absorbed by the fighter's shields. Brock quickly retreated to the tail end of the ship to join his fellow Spartans.

"We've got a pair of Seraphs on our tail and this ship isn't equipped to destroy them before they do it" Brock said calmly.

"What maneuver were you thinking?" Rachelle asked.

"You guys still got those frag grenades?" Brock asked. The other Spartans nodded, seemingly confused. "Myrin, grab a Sniper Rifle and get ready." A winking green light assured Brock his orders were being followed. He turned back into the cockpit. "How long until those Seraphs are ready to fire?" he asked.

"Five seconds and they'll blast us apart!" the pilot yelled.

"Quick, can we survive a direct hit?" Brock asked.

"Maybe . . ." the pilot answered.

"Activate the launching ramp, now!" Brock yelled and ran back with his teammates.

Rachelle and Forrest stood, hefting a fragmentation grenade each. Myrin had an S2 AM Sniper Rifle at the ready. The sound of plasma being fired echoed in the air. The launching ramp slowly began opening, before being completely torn and melted away by a blast of blue fire. Another shot slammed into the starboard side of the ship, tearing away a huge portion of its titanium armor.

"First grenade away!" Brock yelled.

Forrest didn't hesitate, chucking the explosive device toward the nearest Seraph. Myrin sighted and squeezed off a shot from his Sniper Rifle. Shrapnel and fire swept over the Seraph, covering it in a ball of smoke. When the ship emerged, its shields flickered off and 70mm armor piercing rounds tore through it. Within a few seconds, the Seraph was reduced to a smoking comet and began a fast descent for the ground.

"Second grenade away!" Brock commanded.

Rachelle nodded and threw the sphere of destruction with all her might. A bead of sweat ran down Myrin's forehead under his helmet. He tapped the trigger and watched the ensuing explosion. This time, the remaining Seraph fighter came out shooting. For a moment, the Pelican and Covenant ship exchanged fire. Brock sprang and tackled Rachelle out of the way as a blast of plasma shot into the ship. At the same time, the Pelican's shots tore into the Seraph's cockpit and the fighter began its fall.

Brock looked toward the cockpit, noting there was no longer a wall between the cargo bay and it. Their pilot still sat at the controls, a large section of her hair and armor burned away. Her skin was pink and blistered from the heat. Brock tapped her on the shoulder.

"You good to go?" he asked. She nodded in response.

"Just a sunburn, no worries" the pilot said.

Brock turned back to the other Spartans. "Good job Scimitar, now sit back and enjoy the view" Brock ordered.

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**2242 Hours, November 13th, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Sol System, Planet Earth**

**ONI base STRONGHOLD, five miles east of the Maine shoreline**

Colonel James Ackerson sat down at his desk, eyeing the data reader in his hands. On it, the screen showed a read out of all the Spartans he would be meeting in the morning. Having never actually met any of his brain babies, the Colonel was actually fairly excited to see his ideas brought to life. Even though it was Ackerson who started the SPARTAN-III project, all he had ever requested to see was their mission progress reports. All mission accomplished by the way. He only wished Dr. Halsey could be here to see his crowning achievements.

The first Spartan on the roster was SPARTAN-G221, Brock. The young Spartan was originally born on Harvest, back before it had been glassed by the Covenant. He immediately volunteered to get revenge upon the alien bastards when given the opportunity. Throughout his training, Brock specialized in tactics, quickly becoming the leader of his own team. While not above average in many areas, Brock stood out none the less because of his courage, always willing to risk his life for the sake of others. It was this quality about him that had gotten him many friends and awards.

Next up was SPARTAN-G007, Rachelle. Born on Jericho VII, Rachelle was also quick to accept the responsibility of serving as a Spartan. Having a big mouth and a fiery temper, she got into many brawls at the beginning of her training. She excelled in hand-to-hand combat, even managing to outfight her trainers after only a few months.

After Rachelle came SPARTAN-G059, Forrest. Coming from the exact same town as Rachelle, Forrest was also born on Jericho VII. A little hesitant at first, Forrest was finally talked into becoming a Spartan-III. From a young age, Forrest had always taken an interest in explosives. He had even blown up an ammunition warehouse using packages of C-12, nearly getting him shot by camp guards. Though rebellious, Forrest made one hard core Spartan.

Lastly was the most interesting case of them all, SPARTAN-175, Myrin. Not originally asked to volunteer, the young man from Biko had instead shown up at the recruiting office and held the secretary at gun point until she agreed to sign him up. Immediately, Myrin got himself noticed for his impressive shooting skills. It was rumored that he was a better shot than any other SPARTAN-III.

Colonel Ackerson set down his reader, smiling and lighting a cigar. He took a hit off the cigar and smiled, they were perfect for the mission he had in store for them.

Suddenly, a flash of distorted light caught the Colonel's eye. He grabbed the handle of his Magnum sidearm and held it at the ready. "I know you're there, show yourself!" Ackerson yelled. No response came. The Colonel stood up, glancing around suspiciously. "I'll fire!"

"No need to get hostile Colonel" a deep throated, raspy voice said. Slowly, the body of a full grown Elite warrior materialized, its optic camouflage shield fading away. The Elite stood a full two feet above the Colonel and was clad in the pearly white armor of a Special Operations Commander. "It is only I, Reks 'Tormunee."

"Damn stealthy son of a bitch, just don't enter my office like that, I should shoot you next time" Ackerson growled. He clipped his magnum back in its hilt and took another puff from his cigar. Even though the humans and Covenant separatists had agreed to a temporary alliance, Ackerson was wary of his newfound "allies". "What do you want Reks?"

"My leaders have just been briefed on your plans to defeat the Loyalists" 'Tormunee said.

"What's your point?" Ackerson asked.

"They want to help" the Elite answered.

"Oh yeah, and what exactly do your big slimy friends plan to do?" the Colonel probed.

"I have been authorized to offer you the help of our Divine Unit, a Special Operations force led by me" the Elite explained. "Thus far, all missions involving the landing on Forerunner technology have been successful for them. They know what they're doing."

"Tell your bosses I accept their proposal on one condition, my boys have command" Ackerson said.

"Of course Colonel," 'Tormunee said, bowing. "Always a pleasure."

Ackerson eyed the SpecOps Commander as he left, making sure the Elite wasn't up to anything fishy. Then the Colonel took a final puff of his cigar and went back to work.

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**0500 Hours, November 14th, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Sol System, Planet Earth**

**ONI base STRONGHOLD, debriefing room**

Team Scimitar sat patiently, awaiting the appearance of their so-called host, a Colonel James Ackerson. From what intelligence they could gather, it was he who had started the project in which they had been turned into super-soldiers. Brock was excited to meet the man, almost like having a father return home from war.

Finally, the single door leading into and out of the debriefing room opened and an older man entered. Ackerson strode in, set four readers on the long wooden table and cast glances at each of the Spartans.

"Morning soldiers, how was Berlin?" he asked casually.

"Alive as always Colonel" Brock responded. Ackerson nodded and smiled. He tossed a reader one by one to each of the Spartans.

"Enough chit-chat, we've got business to conduct" the man said. "If you'd please take a glance at the readers I've thrown you, you'll notice they are labeled Top-Secret and for your eyes only, of course you speak not a word to anyone about what you're about to read. Now, please bring up Page 1, Section 5."

"You'll notice this is a blueprint of Installation 05, aka Delta Halo. Please not all areas highlighted in red, as these mark hot spots completely overrun by either Covenant or Flood forces" the Colonel explained.

Brock noted that almost the entire blueprint was red with said areas. Ackerson brought up a projection the blueprint and pointed near the center of an unoccupied area of the Installation.

"You will land here, Sector G-7," Ackerson said. "From there you will be met by a SpecOp force of Covenant separatists. They will lead you here, Sector M-9. Your mission will be to retrieve three Sentinels, as seen above."

The projector switched to the image of a hovering drone made of some unknown metal. In the center of a pair of metal beams, a single "eye" rested. On the image, the Sentinel's eye lit up and a beam of golden energy shot forward.

"Sentinels use beams of focused heat to attack their prey, namely the Flood" Ackerson said. "We've sent a few science teams to try and capture one of them, but so far none have returned alive. The Sentinels were originally designed to contain any spread of the Flood, but their weaponry has also proved useful against the Covenant and our Marines."

"Section Three of the Office of Naval Intelligence has designed a bullet containing enough electrical charge to short circuit the AI of these drones. You will be given a full clip of these bullets for use on the standard S2 AM Sniper Rifle. Simply tag one of the little suckers with these and it'll be lights out. Any questions?"

Brock raised his hand.

"Yes?" Ackerson asked.

"How long do we have to complete the mission?" the Spartan asked.

"Five days" the Colonel answered. Forrest raised his hand.

"Sir, if I'm not mistaken, it takes three times that just to reach Delta Halo even in a Corvette-class ship" Forrest stated.

"I know Spartan, you're not taking a UNSC ship," Ackerson said, "you'll ride in on the separatist Destroyer _Blind Fury_. Estimated time of arrival is twelve hours upon jump into Slipspace. Of course, the ship will have to fight its way a safe distance away from the planet before it can attempt the jump, a safety protocol."

Myrin raised his hand. "If we succeed, how will the 'Sentinels' be used, sir?"

"To create enhanced combat drones soldier, which we plan to use to defeat the Covenant and the Flood, when the time comes" Ackerson answered. "Now, prepare for departure immediately. The Armory is two floors up, the first door to your right."

Team Scimitar stood up, pushed in their chairs and began walking toward the exit.

"Oh and Spartans . . ." Ackerson began. The super-soldiers stood about face.

"Give 'em Hell up there, and bring me back those Sentinels or don't come back at all."


	3. The Sky's the Limit

CHAPTER 3

The Sky's the Limit

**0550 Hours, November 14th, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Sol System, Planet Earth**

**ONI base STRONGHOLD, Armory**

Brock and the rest of Team Scimitar entered the Armory as kids would if they were entering a candy shop. The room was so huge that the Spartans couldn't really make out where the walls were. Hundreds of shelves holding weaponry, human and Covenant alike, made mini-halls you could walk down. Under each weapon was enough ammunition to get a soldier through five large scale battles.

"Spartans, over here!" a gruff voice yelled. Team Scimitar followed the sound of the voice to a back corner of the room, finding a single ONI scientist standing in front of a vaulted door. "My name is Dr. Huffman and I've received special orders from Colonel Ackerson to equip you with the necessary weapons for your mission." The man held out his hand. Brock grasped it and shook firmly.

"Now," the doctor said, opening the door behind him and reaching in. "Each of these weapons have been tailor made for all of you." The first weapon he pulled out was a long rifle that slightly resembled the classic S2 AM Sniper Rifle, but with a few variations. "May I introduce the SL7-SR, aka the Shredder. This puppy fires pointed spines for extra penetration, even effective against energy shields and Brute skin." He handed the Shredder to Myrin, as well as three boxes of ammo for it. Then he pulled out a special box and also handed it to him. "I believe Ackerson already told you what these are for."

"Next we have the Sear Sword," the doctor said, passing the hilt of a katana-style sword to Rachelle. "We used a variation of the Covenant Plasma Sword to charge up a blade of focused blue plasma. Unlike the Plasma Sword however, we've managed to focus the particles for increased cutting power."

Rachelle hit the activation button on the hilt and watched as a slightly curved, thin line of plasma shot out, ending in a sharp point. She flashed the Spartan signal of a smile.

"Now meet the M20-FPL, my personal pride and joy" Dr. Huffman said, hefting a massive rocket-launcher on his shoulder and staring through the scope. "I used a stripped down version of the Covenant Wraith's plasma launcher to give this baby the power to focus plasma and fire a similar round. Her battery power is a little limited, but she's also two times faster for cool down and firing time, enjoy." The doctor passed the launcher to Forrest who greedily accepted it.

"Don't think I forgot about you" the doctor said, pointing at Brock. He reached in and pulled out an assault rifle. "This is the MA5D Assault Rifle, capable of alternating between Full Metal Jacket- Armor Piercing rounds and Magnum rounds for extra stopping power. She also has an ammo counter and a built in compass."

Brock looked over the weapon and smiled.

"We're also going to provide you each with M6C Magnums for sidearm weapons and four of each grenade as well" the doctor said, tossing the weapons to the Spartans. "Now, leave me to my work- I'm designing a new shotgun that fires tiny explosives."

The Spartans each thanked him and headed back for the door.

"Spartans, form up!" Brock yelled.

In a flash, his three teammates stood about face in a line in front of him. Brock looked over each of their weapons, made sure they had enough ammo and checked their vital signals. They were ready, as always.

"The Flood hold a massive portion of the Halo we're headed to, which means we'll have to fight our way in," Brock began. "When we land and are met by the Separatist SpecOp team we will show them the utmost respect! Ackerson informed me before we left that the Divine Unit is currently on a recon mission to discover the positions of the nearest Sentinel spawning ports. They will lead us to whatever they find, but we are in command, understood? If any of them turn on us or we even suspect them of treachery, Ackerson has authorized us to down 'em."

"For now, our orders are to reach the landing zone of the Separatist destroyer _Blind Fury_" Brock instructed. "We'll be airlifted to the Hawaiian Islands in the Pacific, the safest place for their ship to land, and from there we will begin our mission. Perform all safety double-checks and we'll head out."

Within the hour, Team Scimitar was picked up on the STRONGHOLD landing pad above surface by a Pelican. Soon after lifting off, they were joined by a pair of guard dog SkyHawks.

Brock looked down and watched the majestic crashing waves of the Atlantic morph into the beautiful landscape of the United States of America. Far below, he could see flashes of explosions and heard the faint echo of gunfire as Marines fought for their world. Having never been to Earth before his most recent landing, Brock got a real sense of what he was fighting for.

Harvest had been beautiful, but nothing Brock had ever seen compared to the home world of the human species.

Further up in the sky, Brock watched the silhouette of a UNSC Frigate turn into a smoking comet of shrapnel as it was blasted by Covenant weaponry. There were flashes of MAC guns being fired and plasma turrets releasing their burning payloads. Defense platforms such as the _Cairo_ station were the only things truly keeping the Covenant from completely overrunning Earth's defense forces.

"Beautiful ain't she?" Rachelle asked, putting her hand on Brock's shoulder and breaking him of his momentary trance.

"Yeah" Brock replied.

"Ready to save her?" the female Spartan asked.

Brock smiled underneath his SPI helmet. "Definitely" was all he said.

Five hours of riding in a Pelican was really starting to affect Forrest's stomach in a negative way. The Spartan peeled off his helmet and took a deep breath of air. He impatiently stood up and walked to the cockpit.

"Pilot, when do we land?" he asked.

"Estimated time of landing is 1200 hours sir" the pilot answered.

Forrest sighed and slipped his helmet back on. He sat back down and pulled out a package of C-12, fiddling with its wires.

"Banshee formation ahead" a stern male voice stated over the COM link. Team Scimitar's heads up displays identified the voice as belonging to their starboard side SkyHawk bodyguard. "Suggest we alter our course to evade."

"Affirmative Burning Eagle, altering course now" the Spartans heard their pilot respond. Brock made his way to the cockpit.

"Trouble?" he asked.

"No sir," the co-pilot piped in, "we just need to make a few minor adjustments to our course."

Brock nodded and went back into the cargo bay, taking a seat next to Forrest. He opened up a private TEAMCOM link to the rest of the Spartans.

"We've got twelve Banshees on our eleven, coming in fast" he said.

"But we're avoiding them right?" Myrin asked.

"I'm not so sure we can" Brock answered.

"A Pelican and two SkyHawks should be able to tackle twice as many Banshees, they don't even have shields" Rachelle said.

"Neither do we though, and they outnumber us 4 to 1" Brock retorted.

"So what can we do about it?" Forrest asked.

"What we always do, win."

* * *

**Tenth Age of Rejoining**

**On board the Separatist Destroyer _Blind Fury_**

**Sol Relative Time: November 14th, 2552**

Ship Master Ryu 'Gallamee stared at planet Earth from space. It was a truly remarkable just how hard humanity was fighting for such a run-of-the-mill planet. Then again, the same could've been said about 'Gallamee and his religious devotion only a month or so ago. Now he fought against it with equal ferocity. Ryu had been merely a Major before the civil war had broken out, but was quickly elevated when he managed to lead a tactical strike against the Jiralhanae that ended with a massive death toll for the Loyalists.

Now he stood in his very own ship, the honor, not to mention the gold armor, all belonging to him. As Ryu shouted for a simple course correction, he was reminded of the mandible he had lost in the brutal fight that had accelerated him to such a powerful status.

Across the deck, three other Sangheili warriors controlled the ship, acting as the arms and eyes of the Ship Master. At Navigation was Major Lox 'Hanalee, an experienced war veteran transferred from ground operations to Navigation by order of the Arbiter himself. Not too far away, over at Operations was Minor Nim 'Olloxnee, a fresh from boot camp pilot whose courage had made him the perfect warrior for his position as Operations Officer. Finally, at Communications and Sensors was Major K'gar 'Nonokee, rumored to have the best hearing and sight of his division.

'Gallamee was very satisfied with the level all three pilots were on, and the trio had more than proved themselves in the multitude of dogfights the _Blind Fury_ had been engaged in. The Sangheili Ship Master stared at the holographic projection of the battle outside his ship.

Two of the human carriers unloaded a salvo of shots from their MAC guns, tearing apart the Jiralhanae-controlled battle cruiser _Path of the Pure_. Just as the humans would have celebrated, Covenant frigates emerged from behind the wreckage and fired their super-heated turrets. 'Gallamee squinted in the light of the ensuing explosions as both carriers took direct hits along their upper decks and began eternal drifts through space.

"Major 'Hanalee, bring us to course zero five by six four zero, ahead full" Ryu ordered.

"Aye sir" the Major replied.

"Minor 'Olloxnee, I want confirmation for when we have a shooting solution on the _Divine Rage_" 'Gallamee said.

The young Sangheili scrambled momentarily, a common impatient trait found amongst most Minors. Finally, he got control of his anxiousness. 'Gallamee feared one day that the Minor's inexperience would cost him his ship, or worse, his life. "Aye sir, we'll have a firing solution in five units" the Minor said. "Shall I charge our plasma coils?"

"Yes, divert power from our communications systems to speed up the process" Ryu replied.

The Loyalist frigate _Divine Rage_ turned to face the oncoming threat that was the _Blind Fury_, charging its lateral lines and preparing for an all out assault. 'Gallamee watched as the enemy ship charged hastily towards them, evidence of the Jiralhanae Ship Master's impatience. It was a move that would cost him.

"Ready torpedo launchers A-7 through A-10!" Ryu yelled.

"Readying torpedoes sir!" 'Olloxnee announced.

"Minor, where is my shooting solution?" 'Gallamee asked in a growl.

"Sir, we have shooting solution in five, four . . ." the Minor began.

"Major 'Hanalee, turn to starboard side, use emergency thrusters if you have to, we need to fire before they do!" Ryu barked.

The _Blind Fury_'s thrusters kicked on, swinging the destroyer around to its starboard side. Its lateral lines were glowing with plasma.

"Sir, we have a shooting solution!" 'Olloxnee yelled.

"Fire plasma turrets!" Ryu commanded.

Without hesitation the young Minor typed in the commands and 'Gallamee watched as ten boulder-sized comets of burning plasma shot toward the _Divine Rage_ as it struggled to turn and prepare to return fire.

"Minor, what's the progress on those torpedoes?" 'Gallamee asked.

"Sir, all torpedoes are ready to fire on your command!" Nim answered.

"Fire A-7 through A-8 now!" the Ship Master ordered.

The Minor tapped a few on screen buttons and the ship rocked momentarily as two plasma torpedoes screamed out of their tubes, leaving trails of bright blue exhaust.

'Gallamee watched as his first salvo of plasma slammed into the shields of the _Divine Rage_, waves of fire washing over the barrier between it and the ship. Despite the damage, the shields held and the enemy frigate fired its plasma coils.

"Fire remaining torpedoes, then take evasive action!" the Ship Master bellowed.

The Navigation and Operations officers both yelled "Aye!" in unison.

Multiple torpedoes shot out just as the _Blind Fury_'s emergency thrusters kicked on and the ship boosted out of its current place.

"Sir, enemy plasma is making course correction," Nim said, "impact with primary shields in six units!"

"Turn straight for the enemy fire Major!" 'Gallamee ordered.

The Major's face became very confused for a moment but he obeyed.

"We only make a bigger target exposing our side like this" the Ship Master explained. He watched as the first group of torpedoes exploded into the sides of the _Divine Rage_ and bathed in the glorious feeling of watching its shields flicker out of existence.

Just then the enemy's fire caught the _Blind Fury _directly in front of her main deck. For a moment, all 'Gallamee could see on the holographic projector was an inferno of blue and orange fire. Then it simply vanished.

"Sir, shields remain at 26, second wave of torpedoes are due to strike within three seconds!" 'Olloxnee announced.

_Divine Rage _tried to turn and avoid the projectiles that had been fired at it, but to no avail. All but one of the torpedoes fired exploded on the port and aft sides of the ship, leaving trails of fire in their wake. The frigate was torn into multiple pieces as all of its decks caught fire and it began melting.

"Sir, enemy ship destroyed!" Nim yelled.

"Good work warriors, now prepare for departure, we're heading to Earth" the Ship Master ordered.

* * *

**1003 Hours, November 14th, 2552**

**Sol System, Planet Earth**

**Air space above Pacific Ocean**

"Screaming Falcon this is Burning Eagle, enemy Banshees are altering their course, estimated time for collision is four minutes" the SkyHawk pilot said.

"Roger that Burning Eagle, engage enemy formation" the Pelican pilot responded.

Brock listened as both SkyHawk fighters broke off of either side of the Pelican and boosted ahead. He hoped the UNSC fighters would survive the next ten seconds or they would all be consumed by plasma fire.

"Burning Eagle this is Adept Phoenix, maneuvering into Beta Formation now!" one of the SkyHawk pilots announced.

Both fighters broke apart and angled themselves in diagonal angles toward the Banshee formation. With the Banshees' weaponry all facing forward, the pilots hoped to neutralize them without even a scratch.

"Firing 50mm cannons!" Adept Phoenix yelled. Trails of high-caliber bullets spat out of the fighter's main cannons and slammed into the enemy ranks. Across the way, Burning Eagle did the same. A torrent of fire slammed into the Banshee formation from either side, trapping it in a wall of 50mm rounds. Or so they thought.

The Banshees activated their propulsion systems and climbed up with intricate spins, only three of them being destroyed as the rest evaded fire. Now the Covenant attack craft turned and returned fire, their twin plasma cannons lighting up the sky. The SkyHawks rolled to evade, but each took glancing blows.

The UNSC fighters tried to keep formation, but the enemy attacked in twin swarms, forcing them to break and run.

"Screaming Falcon, this is Burning Eagle, run for your lives!" the SkyHawk pilot yelled.

"Roger that Burning Eagle, God speed" the Pelican pilot responded.

Brock was impressed with the courage of the SkyHawk pilots, they were giving their lives to give the Pelican a few precious extra seconds to escape. But it just wasn't going to be enough.

Burning Eagle halted amid flight and turned around, firing both of its main cannons. An enemy Banshee was torn apart by the hail of gunfire and spiraled toward its doom. Four Fuel Rod Guns fired in unison and the SkyHawk pilot closed his eyes and hit the ejection button just before his fighter was engulfed in neon green flame.

Adept Phoenix watched his partner's fighter go up in flames and tried a different tactic, turning nose up and reaching for the stars. The enemy Banshees followed for as long as they could, firing wildly, but the UNSC fighter climbed high into the upper atmosphere. The Covenant Banshees gave up their chase, deciding the Pelican was more important and turned around.

"Sir, Banshees approaching on either side!" the co-pilot yelled.

"Fire anti-air defenses!" the pilot ordered.

The Pelican's twin 70mm cannons turned to either side and opened fire, the anti-armor rounds downing a pair of Banshees immediately. The rest of the Banshees split and swarmed the dropship, raining plasma on it from above. Brock looked up and saw the ceiling of the Pelican turning red from the extreme heat.

"Pilot, climb up, get us above those Banshees and we'll take care of the rest!" Brock ordered over the COM link.

"Climbing now, shall I open the cargo bay?" the pilot asked as Brock felt the Pelican turn for the sky. The dropship rocked as another volley of plasma slammed into its port side.

"Aye, Spartans, hold on, we're going to go for a quick drop!" Brock shouted.

The cargo bay of the Pelican slid open, immediately creating a powerful air vacuum as the dropship continued its ascension into the sky. The Spartans held on tightly to the safety bars that had been placed all around the cargo bay for situations just like this.

Brock stared out at the Banshees below them as they formed up into a wedge formation and boosted after the dropship. The lead Spartan was thankful that by activating their booster systems, the Banshees had to disable their weapons.

"Forrest, still got that C-12?" Brock asked over TEAMCOM.

"Yes sir" Forrest answered. The Spartan-III pulled out the package of explosives and waved them in the air momentarily.

"Toss it" Brock ordered.

Forrest nodded and chucked the package of wired explosives, then quickly grabbed the triggering device. The Spartan waited until the C-12 bounced off the nose of the first Banshee and then pressed the activation button. The package of explosives tore apart, morphing into a ball of destruction that consumed the lead four Banshees.

"Spartans, aim and jump at will!" Brock commanded, then let go of the safety bar and rocketed out of the Pelican's cargo bay. The rest of Team Scimitar followed after momentary hesitation.

Brock slammed into the front of the closest Banshee and immediately lost all the air in his lungs. Luckily, his SPI armor didn't crack, though it was sure to have a good sized dent after an impact like that. The Banshee cut off its thrusters systems and came to a sudden halt. Fighting his momentary lack of oxygen, Brock scrambled to grab hold of something as the momentum of the halt slid him across the attack craft.

The Spartan pushed himself off the side of the Banshee and grabbed onto one of its 'wings'. The craft lurched at the sudden shift in weight. Brock quickly found air and felt a sudden surge of energy as oxygen filled his body. The Banshee now struggled to right itself, leaning the opposite direction to avoid being drug down. Brock used the change of direction to his advantage, sliding down the wing and coming into contact with the craft's main body.

From there, the Spartan got a grip on the underside of the latch that protected the pilot. Using his augmented muscles, Brock managed to tear the cockpit open. The surprised Brute pilot had no time to react as Brock climbed on top of him, drew one of his sidearm Magnums and pumped two rounds into the alien's head. The Brutes now limp body slid out of the craft and fell back down into the atmosphere as Brock grabbed the controls.

"How goes it team?" Brock asked over TEAMCOM. Two green lights winked on immediately, followed closely by the last. Looking out the holographic projection of the airspace ahead of him, Brock watched as three Banshees turned on the remaining three enemy attack crafts and opened fire.

The Covenant pilots were much more experience with their craft though, easily evading fire and turning to finish them off. Brock activated his Banshee's boosting thrusters and shot to intercept the approaching enemies when twin streams of bullets caught them from behind.

Brock looked up and saw the Pelican and SkyHawk left from their original takeoff closing in on the remaining enemies. Pinned by two firing squads, the Banshees were blown out of the sky within seconds.

"Report status team" Brock said.

"I'm good sir" Rachelle said.

"A-okay buddy" was Forrest's response.

Myrin's acknowledgement light just winked green.

"Okay Adept Phoenix and Screaming Falcon, lead the way!" Brock yelled.

* * *

A/N: This chapter is by far my longest yet and I worked hard to get the extra 1,000 words out at the end (mainly because FFN wouldn't let me upload any documents). Hope you all enjoyed it and thanx to everyone who has reviewed. 


	4. Cat in the Hat

A/N: Special thanx to Micheal.C.Owens for being my new editor, though he never got a chance to edit this chapter before I posted it.

* * *

CHAPTER 4

Cat in the Hat

**1210 Hours, November 14th, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Sol System, planet Earth**

**10 miles of the shore of the island of Hawaii**

Staring at the holographic image the Banshee's control console projected, Brock was chilled at what he saw. The sky was a murky gray, with heavy cloud cover and slight thunderstorms. Over the main Hawaiian island, the clouds and storms were broken apart, giving way to a far more sinister figure. The Covenant battle cruiser that rested above Hawaii was enormous, stretching far out in both directions, its main gravity beam located in the center.

All around the island, Brock could barely make out the specs that represented Banshee patrols. The Spartan increased his magnification and counted them, five in all. He imagined that the Covies probably also had a fair amount of ground support, Wraiths, Ghosts and Shades. The dropship and fighter jet accompanying them wouldn't help tip the scales, they'd be liabilities.

"Screaming Falcon and Adept Phoenix, this is Scimitar One, we've got a cruiser in the sky" he said.

"Roger that Scimitar One, what are your orders?" Adept Phoenix asked.

"Return to base and await further instruction" Brock answered.

"Sir, with all due respect-" Screaming Falcon began, before being sharply cut off.

"You heard me Lieutenant, I don't care what your orders are, you staying here will only compromise our mission" Brock said bluntly.

There was a long pause.

"Roger that Scimitar One, Screaming Falcon and Adept Phoenix out, good luck sir" the Pelican pilot finally said. Brock listened as the noisy human ships turned back around and was content that he had made the right decision.

"What's the plan S-1?" Forrest asked over TEAMCOM.

"I was thinking the old Cat in the Hat maneuver, how about you guys?" Brock asked. Three acknowledgement lights flashed on.

Back under the training of Lieutenant Ambrose, Gamma Company had been trained in aerial combat fairly extensively. They had been put in numerous combat simulations and had always won. The Cat in the Hat was one of the first maneuvers taught to them, designed to catch the enemy off guard and destroy them before they could respond. But this was an actual aerial combat situation, not a simulation and Brock would have to take into account all the variables before throwing his team into a firefight.

In recent weeks, the Covenant had learned that many a time UNSC soldiers would hijack their craft and attack them, catching them by surprise. They now had much tighter security when it came to unidentified ships. Not only that, but Spartans were naturally more comfortable on the ground than in the sky or space, their performance may not be as crisp. It wasn't that he didn't think his team could do the job, he just wanted to be sure.

Brock immediately noted that all five enemy Banshees were heading in their direction. The Spartan hoped the Covenant wouldn't ask any questions until his group was a little bit closer.

"Alright Scimitar, the enemy has us down as guilty until proven innocent" Brock said. "They're going to be on guard, which means our reaction timing will have to be just right. Line up any shots you can and prepare to fire the Fuel Rod Guns, we needed to maximize initial damage and minimize return fire."

Just then Brock heard the scrambled voice of a Brute barking questions over the Covenant BattleNet. He punched a few buttons on the communication portion of the console, hoping he'd sent an appropriate response.

"Fire at will!" Brock yelled over TEAMCOM.

From either side of him, globs of green plasma streamed out, heading for the enemy Banshees. Brock hit the firing mechanism and was surprised at how much his Banshee jerked from the recoil of firing its most powerful weapon. Three shots hit their marks, exploding into plumes of neon green fire upon impact. Banshee armor bristled out of existence and the attack crafts were blown open. Both pilot and ship spun toward the merciless sea below.

The remaining two Banshees immediately returned fire, starting out with Fuel Rod fire, then moving to Plasma Cannons while waiting for the main cannon to recharge. Team Scimitar took evasive action, activating their thrusters and sending their ships into elegant dances in the air.

Spinning up and over the enemy fire, Brock boosted past their position and turned the flight controls severely, trying to whip around and flank them. Distracted by the three other Spartan-controlled Banshees, the Covies turned a blind eye to him. A mistake that cost one of them their life.

With an affirmative grunt, Brock punched the firing mechanism and shook inside the cockpit as the Banshee fired its Fuel Rod Gun. The bomb of fire slammed into the enemy's rear and blew it into pieces.

The rest of Team Scimitar swarmed the remaining enemy, pouring streams of plasma from their cannons until the attack craft exploded into blue fire balls, its wreckage plummeting downward. Moving into a crude arrow formation, Team Scimitar boosted toward the surface of the main Hawaiian island, following Brock's lead.

He and his team had just blown away the enemy's patrols, which mean they had attracted attention in the sky. The last thing Brock wanted was for the Covenant battle cruiser to unleash any Seraphs or to just fire upon them itself. No, the ground was safer.

But two questions lingered in the lead Spartan's mind. Why was the cruiser here and where was the _Blind Fury_?

Their Banshees coming to rest in a small clearing inside a lush tropical forest, Team Scimitar quickly ditched them and headed into cover. Brock immediately hid behind a thick tree and watched the silhouettes of his teammates as they took similar hiding positions. Their SPI armor adjusted to their surroundings, leaving only vague reflections of light to give away their positions.

"Let's break into two teams, Forrest and Myrin, me and Rachelle," Brock said, "we need to scout out any Covenant activity before we move any further."

The Spartans sent acknowledgments to their leader and Rachelle approached silently from Brock's four 'o clock. He watched Myrin and Forrest break toward one side of the forest, so he and Rachelle moved toward the other.

Having never seen a forest in a tropical climate before, Brock was amazed at the serenity and purity the sight had to offer. A lush canopy of thick green leaves from palm trees offered protection from the sun, and the threat of aerial surveillance. The moist ground below his feet sank a little with each step under the heavy weight of his armor, they would be easy to trace if they stayed moving like this.

Brock brought two fingers to his helmet as if pointing at his eyes, then pointed at the fallen logs and rocks that jutted out of the forest floor. Rachelle nodded and both stepped up onto the obstacles, careful to only step on the floor when it was absolutely needed as they made their way through the forest.

Suddenly, the air was filled with a thundering crash. Brock motioned for a halt and immediately scanned the horizon, trying to peek through the gaps in the canopy. He saw nothing. Just as he raised his arm to motion for Rachelle to move forward, another ear-splitting crash rang out. Once again Brock looked around for the source.

"Scimitar One, this is Scimitar Three, we've got a Scarab in sight" Myrin said over TEAMCOM. "It seems to be on a search and destroy mission sir."

"Roger that Scimitar Three, are you in view of the break in the forest?" Brock asked.

"Yes sir" came the response.

"Meet us two meters back from it" Brock ordered. Acknowledgement lights winked on and Brock and Rachelle broke into a slight jog. It was reckless, but if they were up against a Scarab, leaving footprints didn't matter much.

Coming into sight of where the forest ended and the wreckage of a small village began, Brock saw light reflecting the shape of a hand waving. He and Rachelle approached the other Spartans, weapons aimed in the air.

"Sir, the Scarab's on our two, just beyond our view" Forrest said, pointing. "We spotted it by climbing up into the trees."

"Good work, any other Covenant spotted?" Brock asked.

"Negative sir" Forrest answered.

So the Covenant had seen them, and come in guns blazing. Brock's heartbeat increased an almost unnoticeable amount as he struggled to come up with a plan, any plan to down the Covenant juggernaut looking for them.

"Sir, what do we do?" Rachelle asked.

"We could try and slip past it, but with the Scarab's superior tracking abilities I doubt we'd get far," Brock said. He suddenly wished they hadn't abandoned their Banshees so hastily. "Looks like we'll have to take it by force."

* * *

**Tenth Age of Rejoining**

**Sol Relative Time: November 14th, 2552**

**The surface of Delta Halo, aka Installation 05**

Reks 'Tormunee motioned for the Divine Unit to halt. His silvery Special Operations Commander armor reflected the sight of Parasite Infection Forms. The Sangheili Commander backed around the corner, drew his Plasma Rifle from its magnetic holster and turned to his troops.

The five Unggoy and three other Sangheili that made up the Divine Unit were some of the finest soldiers Reks had ever met. Dressed down in the traditional black armor of a SpecOp unit, the warriors were nearly invisible in the shadows of the Foreunner structure they hid behind.

"The Parasite are before us," 'Tormunee said, "we must evade them. Engage Active Camouflage and follow me." Just then, the Commander disappeared under a cloak of reflective light.

In an instance, his warriors followed suit and melded into the shadows.

Peeking around the corner once more, 'Tormunee scouted out the situation. The Parasite had three of the bloated Carrier Forms, two Combat Forms and literally hundreds of the pesky Infection Forms amongst their ranks. Up against a seasoned unit like that of the Divine, the odds were against the Parasite, but not as much as Reks would've liked.

Though Reks had been on hundreds of Forerunner structures before, he'd never faced the Parasite. He'd studied them and learned that they could usually track their prey through movement or heat patterns, but he hoped their Active Camouflage would fool the creatures.

'Tormunee gazed at the Sangheili that had fallen under the control of the Parasite and was disgusted to know that he would have to fight one of his own brethren. The warrior had been transformed into a walking abomination of tentacles, diseased flesh and basic instincts. It was a sickening sight.

"If we are spotted, burn the Parasite to dust, leave nothing in our wake!" Reks yelled over the COM. Then he stepped out into the light and charged across an open field of lush green grass, trying to move around the group of festering monsters. His soldiers filed behind him in a disciplined line, their weapons at the ready.

Suddenly, the Parasite formation shifted, the Combat Forms sensing movement. A bead of sweat ran down 'Tormunee's forehead as he continued to try and shuffle around. Then, with a ghastly screech, the Sangheili Combat Form sprang through the air, flailing its whip-like appendages.

The mountain of rotting skin and muscle landed on an Unggoy soldier, easily pinning the smaller creature to the ground. The Unggoy's Active Camouflage flickered out of existence as the Loyalist struggled against his superior opponent. The rest of the Parasite jumped into action, swarming toward the pinned down soldier.

"Attack!" 'Tormunee yelled, firing a burst of plasma from his Rifle at the Combat Form. Waves of burning blue fire washed over the diseased brute, charring its flesh. The Combat Form relentlessly beat at the Unggoy even while its own body began to burn away. When Reks had finally finished off the beast, the Unggoy had been reduced to a pile of broken bones and beaten flesh.

All around him, overcharged blasts from Plasma Pistols and shards of crystalline ammunition tore through the Parasite ranks as his troops opened fire. A Needler round latched onto a jumping Infection Form and exploded just before the insect-like creature would've latched onto a Sangheili's face. The Infection Form was burned to ashes.

A pair of shots from a Plasma Pistol slammed into a Carrier Form, knocking it over. The hulking mass of disease exploded amidst the masses of Infection Forms, killing many and bringing only a few into life.

Reks primed a Plasma Grenade and chucked it at the remaining Combat Form, a mutated human Marine. The grenade sailed through the air, leaving a trail of blue fire as it flew and latched onto the Combat Form's head. With a grunt, the infected human sprang into the air and towards the SpecOp Commander. It exploded amid flight, raining disease and gore onto the crowd below.

After that, the battle died down. Reks called his soldiers into a simple defensive formation and from there the Divine Unit slaughtered the remaining Parasite forces, peppering them with plasma fire until there was nothing but charred remains left over.

'Tormunee bent down and touched the blood stained grass underneath the body of the Unggoy soldier they had lost in the beginning of the assault. He rubbed the purplish liquid between two fingers, then wiped it back onto the grass. He promised the Unggoy that the Parasite would pay for his death, they would succeed in their mission and help the humans finish the unholy disease once and for all. Then he bent down, scrounged up a Plasma Grenade and Needler from the carcass and latched them into holsters.

* * *

**1250 Hours, November 14th, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Sol System, Planet Earth**

**The island of Hawaii**

Brock positioned himself at the edge of the rock face he stood on, staring down at the tropical forest below him. Thanks to his SPI armor, he blended in perfectly with the ground below his feet and the sky above his head. Invisible to the naked eye, Brock was comfortable that the Scarab approaching his position would spot him until he moved.

The Scarab towered above the tree tops, its metallic legs crushing anything that got under them and its glowing 'eye' casting a glare on the world below it. Two mounted Shade cannons made up the biggest part of the behemoth's weaponry. One faced forward and mounted on its back and another rear facing one was mounted on its abdomen. Brock knew that the main weapon of the Covenant powerhouse was its central eye, which fired a beam of focused green plasma for maximum damage.

Brock waited for the Scarab to walk near his position, even brushing up against the rock face, before he jumped. With a satisfying metal scraping noise, the Spartan rolled along the top deck of the Covenant walker and came to his feet. Only then did he notice that the Covenant had placed multiple guards on the upper deck. Two Brutes and three Jackals turned toward the noise and yelled battle cries. They had spotted Brock before his SPI armor could meld in with his surroundings and opened fire.

The Spartan rolled underneath a grenade fired from a Brute Shot and came to his feet firing. His MA5D choked out Magnum rounds, acting more like a fully automatic shotgun than an assault rifle. A spray of powerful rounds peppered the chest of the Brute that had fired and embedded into the beast's chest. With a last defiant roar, the Brute fell into a heap on the ground, smoke rising from its body.

"Where's my backup?" Brock growled.

Just then, Brock watched as silhouettes of three Spartans climbed up over the side of the Scarab and opened fire. The Jackal guards formed a crude barrier around the remaining Brute, using their energy shields to block the incoming fire from the Spartans fire. Forrest and Myrin kept the Covenant on the defensive with their Magnum sidearm weapons as Rachelle charged forward, activating the blade on her Sear Sword.

Brock rolled behind Forrest and Myrin, opening fire with his assault rifle. The other two Spartans knelt down and reloaded as Brock unloaded on the Covenant. Ballistic fire cancelled out a Jackal's shield and cut through its neck. The Covenant guard crumpled to the ground, forcing the other remaining Jackals to spread out their defense.

Rachelle sprang up and flipped behind the Covenant formation, coming face to face with the Brute warrior. The enormous beast tossed aside its weapon and threw a sweeping punch at the Spartan. Barely on her feet from the jump, Rachelle rolled backwards and dodged the attack. She brought up her Sear Sword in a defensive stance as the Brute charged her. She slashed at the last second, before being buried under a mass of fur and muscle.

Brock, Myrin and Forrest combined fire and broke through the shields of the Jackals. After the defensive barriers cancelled out, the frail avian bodies of the Covenant guards were torn apart by a hail of gunfire.

The Spartans took the momentary reprieve to slid home new clips of ammunition and stared at the Brute body lying on the ground behind those of the Jackals.

"Rachelle, come in" Brock said.

Nothing.

"Spartan G-007, report" he tried again.

Just then, the skin on the back of the Brute lit up a neon orange. A tearing sound filled the air as a lance of blue plasma shot up through the Brute's body and cut an opening. A moment later, the blade disappeared and a hand shot up, grasping the side of the beast's body. Rachelle pulled herself out of the opening she had created, her armor covered in the blood of the warrior she had slain.

She gave a casual thumbs up.

"Alright," Brock said, "let's finish this."

At that moment, the ramp leading down into the cockpit of the Scarab was overrun by Brutes and Jackals and the Spartans turned toward the new threat, a renewed vigor filling their augmented bodies. The air filled with plasma fire.


End file.
